


Dead on Arrival

by Olietus



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Multi, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1381321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olietus/pseuds/Olietus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean is going home to visit his family, but the train never gets there. He finds himself caught in the middle of a very sudden zombie apocalypse and has no idea what to do about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The many uses of a train toilet

The landscape outside the train’s window was rushing by; hills, trees and clouds becoming nothing but a blur as Jean’s gaze remained unfocused and bored, his eyelids growing heavier with each passing minute. The sun was almost below the horizon, but the last few golden rays still stained the inside of the car red and stung his eyes. The trip up to Vermont was one he took often since his family lived up there and his university was too far away for a bus ride to be comfortable, and he didn’t own a car. His mother had insisted on him saving the money for his education instead of spending it on a driver’s license at the age of sixteen. It had probably been a good idea, but sometimes he regretted not nagging her more about it. Not that there was much that he could do about it now… He was a student, which meant that he was more or less broke all the time. Whatever little money he managed to gain from his sporadic part-time jobs never lasted long after he’d paid his rent.

He sighed heavily as his stomach rumbled, reminding him of the unfortunate fact that he’d completely forgotten to eat before he left… He’d been in a hurry to the train, so he hadn’t really paid much attention to the increasingly empty feeling in his stomach. Why had he passed up on that sandwich that Armin had offered earlier? God damn it. He groaned and rubbed his noisy stomach, hoping that he would be able to ignore it for the remainder of the trip. There was almost five hours left of this tedious traveling experience though, so probably not. He decided that he should probably try to sleep for a bit and when he woke up he’d hopefully not be far from home, or at least feel more inclined to waste money on gross train food from the cafeteria car… He made a grimace at the mere thought of it, trying to find a more comfortable position for himself to nap in when suddenly there was a deafening screeching sound that cut through his ears and he found himself flying through the air before he could even gasp in surprise. A millisecond later his head connected to the armrest of the seat opposite of him with a disgusting crunching sound, and his world instantly went black.

 

***

 

When Jean woke up again the world was still black. His head was pounding and he felt like he was about to be sick, and for some reason the first thing he thought of was that it probably was a good thing he hadn’t eaten anything after all. It took him a few minutes to collect his thoughts and slowly rise out of the haze that obscured his mind, and once he did he realized that he was laying on his back on something hard. A floor. Be blinked hard, his eyes working hard to adjust to the darkness, and he swallowed, trying to wet his parched throat, which felt like it had turned to crumpled up sandpaper mixed with gravel. There was also a distinct taste of copper in his mouth, and as he moved his tongue around to get a feel of the inside he realized that he had bitted himself rather badly in the cheek… It didn’t seem like it was bleeding very badly though. Just enough to feed him with a constant flow of that damn metallic taste.

"Fuck…”, he grunted as he sat up, but stopped as his head started to spin like crazy again, and he had to brace himself on his elbow until it stopped. God damn it. He raised his hand to his forehead, finding it hot and wet against his cold fingers. He slowly pulled it back, and now his eyes had finally adjusted to the poor light, and he could clearly see the black stain on his skin and the nausea instantly kicked back in again and he had to lay back down for a while. He just lay there, breathing heavily, trying to not panic. What if he had a concussion? What were you supposed to do when that happened? Try to remember your name or something, right? 

“Jean Kirschtein… I’m Jean Kirschtein.” He mumbled quietly, feeling unsure for some reason, but unable to give it any more thought. He tensed up and listened. Nothing. He sat up straighter and finally took a good look around. He was still on the train… It was getting dark outside, but a faint hint of pale blue and pink still lingered by the horizon, so not much more than fifteen or thirty minutes tops could have passed since he’s been knocked out. The train car was eerily quiet and seemed to be empty. He remained tense, wondering if the train had been in an accident and he somehow had been left behind… Was that even possible? He sniffed the air, trying to detect if there was any smell of smoke, but he couldn’t feel anything. Then at least the train wasn’t on fire… Not that he could see any fire, but smells traveled further than flames.

Jean was still trying to decide whether or not he should try to stand up or just wait for any help to arrive. He should probably find his phone, but he didn’t know where his bag was, and he wasn’t about to rummage through the mess that the car had turned into after the supposed crash in search for it. Not right now, anyway. He’d had to call his parents and tell them that he was alright… Train wrecks like these went on the news pretty fast, so they would probably be really worried about him. Maybe they had even tried to call him already… He could imagine his mother’s hysteria when he wouldn’t pick up. He swallowed as a sting of guilt punched his chest. Okay, he should probably find his phone as soon as possible, just in case. He reached out in the dark, grabbing the very same arm rest that he’d hit earlier, and tried to pull himself up to his feet. At first he seemed to make progress, but a sudden sound startled him and he lost his balance, effectively sending him back onto the floor, ass first. He hissed and cussed under his breath at the pain, rubbing his sore tailbone and lower back. He’d landed badly and the pain burned through his entire spine, sharp at first, but then fading into a throbbing ache in his lower back. He rubbed the sore spot, whining as he looked up, trying to determine where the sound that had startled him had come from. At first there was nothing, just a continuous dark silence which slowly started to feel absolutely deafening… And then the sound was there again. A voice, moaning quietly. No, wait… The sound was muffled. It seemed to come from the next car. So Jean wasn’t the only person left on the train then. This was such a relief, and ignoring his aching body and head he finally pushed himself back up on his feet and limped towards the door to the other car.

“Hey! Are you alright?” he called out as he saw a shadowy figure move at the other side of the door. The person was hunched over and seemed injured, and Jean cursed through gritted teeth. He didn’t know how to handle injuries, and he needed some medical attention as well. Still, he couldn’t just leave the person if they needed help.

He pushed the door open and started to call out a second time when the person, a woman from the looks of it, suddenly snapped around and stared at him, and a low guttural growl rose from her bleeding throat. Jean froze in his tracks, staring in shock at her. When she moved her limbs seemed stiff and somewhat dysfunctional, as if they hadn’t been used for ages. Even in the darkness Jean could clearly see that her skin was unnaturally pale, and as he took a step back and tried to understand the sight in front of him he caught sight of the huge gash in her lower abdomen, pieces of her intestines protruding through the torn skin and clothes. He gasped for breath, his head swimming, his throat drier than ever before. He couldn’t even scream. The woman extended her broken and bruised arms towards him, and he instantly stumbled backwards, gasping for air as he in panic tried to turn back around and run away. He didn’t know what was happening, and he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to find out.

 

The growls and snarls from the woman faded, but they didn’t disappear. He didn’t need to look back to understand that she was following him, and despite his blurry vision and the severe dizziness he ran faster, away, away, away from her. He didn’t stop even when he saw dark shapes hunched over on the floor, or when he heard yet another moan from somewhere on his right. He kept running through the train, desperately searching for a way out, but there was none. None of the doors were open, and no windows seemed to be smashed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…! You can’t be serious…!” he cried, his voice cracking and shaking as he reached the last car and to his devastation found nothing but a dead end. There was no escape. He was breathing hard and his lungs were burning in his chest. This just couldn’t be happening. There was no way any of this was real. He had just fallen asleep on the train and was having a really fucking bad nightmare… His hand subconsciously moved to his aching skull. It felt real enough, he thought with sudden bitterness. The cars behind him became increasingly noisy and he spun around, looking back only to see surely five of those creatures coming towards him. His heart nearly stopped as they got to the door leading to the car before the one he was in, but they didn’t get any further. The door seemed to be stuck. He was safe for now, but there was absolutely no way for him to be sure that it would stay that way. His ragged breathing didn’t slow and his mind was a panicked mess, but there was one little idea that somehow managed to make its way through the noise and fear, and Jean’s eyes nearly pushed out of their sockets as he stared wide-eyed into the gloomy car that separated him from the creatures. The toilet. There was a toilet in there, and it would have a lock. It was safe. It was out of their reach. He stared at the door, the creatures still struggling to get through the door, growling and moaning as they clawed at the glass, dead eyes and slack jaws being pushed against it. He had to make a run for it. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. It didn’t help. He took another, nearly choking on the god damn air that was forced down the wrong pipe in his panic. He got ready to run, the muscles in his legs tensing up, preparing…

The sound of the glass pane shattering and the door slamming opening nearly gave him a heart attack. They, whatever they were, were in the other car, and he was not. Without thinking he threw himself at the door, slamming it open and nearly tumbled to the floor by the sheer force behind it, but he caught himself in the last second. The abominations moved slowly but surely towards him and had nearly reached the toilet already. Jean ran towards them, only focused on the door to the toilet and its safety. It was closed, but he could make it. He had to make it.

He took a final leap, and just as his hand landed on the handle to the door he felt a cold grip of dead, rotten steel around his wrist. He violently jerked it away from the woman who had caught him, almost ripping the damn limb right off her shoulder. Her face was inches away from his, her empty, white eyes staring directly into his as her mouth opened wide, reaching for his shoulder. He extended both arms and gave her a powerful push, knocking her over and temporarily blocking the path of the others that were all reaching for him now. He yanked at the door handle and as the door flew open the terrified teenager threw himself inside, instantly turning around to close and lock the door right in the faces of five moaning monsters, and also effectively shutting out every shred of light.

 

Once again his world was black. The sound of nails scratching against the locked door, moaning, growling and gnawing tirelessly pressed into his skull through the darkness as Jean sank to the floor, trembling violently and unable to catch his breath. This wasn’t real. The nausea overwhelmed him this time. He bent forward and heaved, emptying gastric acid all over the already dirty floor. But the rancid smell from the vomit was still worlds better than the stench from the rotting beings outside. He collapsed onto the floor, just barely missing the mess he’d made. He couldn’t breathe. He was hyperventilating; panicking until his brain simply had no oxygen left, and he passed out for a second time.


	2. Current events and strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a lot of shit happens while you sleep.

When next he opened his eyes, Jean’s head was spinning. The bathroom’s compact darkness was still there, keeping him wrapped in its unseeing safety. At first he was confused, as one surely was expected to be after such a terrifying experience. However, as the stench of old vomit and dead flesh slowly crept back into his consciousness, he remembered and froze in place, listening intently. But outside there was nothing but silence.  
  
Jean slowly sat up, groaning softly at his pounding headache. He probably had a concussion, which meant that he shouldn’t be running around like an idiot. He couldn’t just blindly throw himself out of here and hope that there would be a way out close by. No, he had to be a little bit smarter than that… Though to be fair he wasn’t overly confident in his ability to make smart decisions. But he had to do something. He couldn’t just sit here forever and hope for rescue. He pulled in a deep, shaky breath as he got himself back up on his feet, reaching out his hands in an attempt to orient himself in there. It didn’t take long for him to locate the door, and he allowed his hand to gingerly rest on the door handle for a while, though he didn’t unlock the door right away. His breathing was heavier than what one would expect of someone who had just woken up, but then again, most people who wake up haven’t been caught in a dark toilet a whole night with flesh-eating zombies patrolling outside.

He stood for surely twenty minutes simply trying to gather the courage to move, and once he finally did, nervous sweat was already damping his forehead as he raised his hand to knock loudly on the door. Nope. No rushing out. Check if any of those things are still within earshot first. He was still as a rock, holding his breath as he pressed his ear against the cool surface of the door and listened.

He breathed out, relieved and terrified all at once. He knocked again, just to make sure. He waited ten minutes, but nothing happened. He swallowed hard, steeling himself. He had no weapon… No way to defend himself if he had to. He bent his legs slightly, checking that they’re still working properly. They’d be his greatest asset right now in case he ran into some hungry cadavers.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open, and was met by a nearly blinding light. The sun had risen in the sky, and the early morning light poured into the abandoned train wagon and made everything look so bright and colorful. It was nearly surreal, and it made last night’s events seem completely unreal, like some sort of terribly vivid nightmare.

The creatures from before were nowhere to be seen, and he knew that he was safe… For now. He took a few hesitant steps out of his safe zone and looked around, acting like a nervous deer that had previously been thrown into a lion’s den without fair warning beforehand. Though to be fair, a deer would most likely not comprehend a warning, much as Jean had failed to notice the surprisingly high number of sick people on the train when he first got on it. That was of little importance now however, as a more pressing matter had started to poke Jean’s brain for attention. He was supposed to have arrived at home last night, but obviously he never did. His family must be terribly worried about him and his mother surely would have called his phone numerous times by now… But he didn’t have his phone on him. It was still buried in his bag back by his seat. Jean swallowed, his throat dry as paper as he looked down through the wagons; the doors having been shoved open or broken down, some completely torn off their hinges. If it had been done by humans or not was impossible to know. It didn’t matter. There was no one to be seen or heard anywhere, so for a moment he felt brave enough to walk, trying to find his way back through the mess made by fallen over luggage and jackets that had been left behind by (presumably) long since fled travelers. He passed a broken window and had to tread carefully to avoid the worst shards that covered the messy floor.

It didn’t take him long to find his own bag which had ended up being thrown down to the floor and landed smack dab in the middle of the narrow passageway. Jean looked around once again, eyes wide and ears listening for any sound that would indicate that he wasn’t alone. Once he had made sure that he was indeed alone, he sat down to rummage through his things, chewing his lower lip nervously as he tried to keep his hands steady. The phone was, true to the tradition of bad karma, buried at the very bottom of the bag, which nearly caused Jean to suffer from a heart attack as that god damn piece of technology was his only link to the outside world. But then his fingers bumped into the familiar feeling of the phone case and he pulled it up, nearly shouting with relief before he remembered the lingering danger around him and remained silent. He unlocked the phone and with shaking, sweating fingers he managed to dial his parents’ home number. It connected, and he held his breath for what felt like fucking forever.

One signal went through. Two. Three. Four… Five… Six…

Wheren’t they home?

Seven.

Shouldn’t they be there, waiting for news from the police or the fire brigade or whoever was supposed to save the people on the train? Speaking of which, where were those rescue teams anyway…?  
  
Eight. God damn it.  
  
Nine.  
  
“Mom, for god’s sake, pick up…!” he hissed at the phone, looking around to see that nobody was there. Still nothing.

Ten. A click on the other end. A breath, the start of a word…  
  
Then the line went dead.

Jean held the phone in front of himself and stared at it in utter horror. The battery was dead, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He had been so close… So close to salvation. This phone call would have saved him from this abandoned wreckage. He could have been on his way home within an hour. But now… He was stuck. He was alone, with no connection to the outside world. He pulled a sharp breath, his body starting to tremble as he felt the cold panic creep back into him, even as he tried his best to fight it. He had never felt this hopeless and desperate and empty in his entire life. And he’d never been so angry. He was absolutely furious, and in his rage he forgot to be quiet and screamed at the top of his lungs, holding out until there was no more air in his lungs. The silence came back and almost seemed suffocating after the sudden scream, and as Jean tried to catch his breath again and think of what to do next, a rustling sound from somewhere startled him. He spun around, staring down the long passageway that led through the many wagons, but there was nothing. Had he just imagined it?  
  
“H-hello?” he called out, not sure why. Maybe he just hadn’t learned his lesson yet. The rustling sound was heard again, this time much closer. A grunt and a groan as someone, or something, tried to get into the wagon through the broken window. Jean had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep himself from gasping. The noises came from the wagon he had to pass through to get to the toilet, so he couldn’t get back there without crossing the path of the creature. He crawled backwards and tried to hide between some seats, grabbing a coat to throw over himself. He was shaking and terrified all over again, and his heart felt like it was about to hammer its way through his fucking rib cage.  
  
The sound of feet approached his hiding spot, and there was no doubt about that the creature had come back because of his screaming. He had nothing to defend himself with… His phone wasn’t exactly a good weapon. What else did he have? His shoes, maybe? Well, better than nothing. He waited for the steps of the creature to head in the other direction before he slipped one shoe off and shoved his hand into it, like an awkward but probably decently effective boxing glove. A shoe to the face delivered by a decent right hook would probably knock even a zombie on its ass long enough to allow Jean to escape.

Then he waited, still as a statue and hoping that he wouldn’t have to use his improvised weapon at all. Sadly, the steps soon returned, along with a slightly out of breath panting coming from the creature’s mouth. There was a low grunt and the creature stopped right in front of Jean. He could see its feet through a small gap between the coat and the floor. The zombie was wearing muddy sneakers, so it had most definitely come from outside somewhere. It didn’t seem inclined to move anytime soon, and as it just stood there, Jean felt a strange rage growing inside him. Fury and frustration and fear all boiled down into one heavy, compact and irresistible urge to beat this disgusting thing into a pulp.  
  
He should think this over. Attacking just like that would be a bad move no matter how you did it, but at the same time he couldn’t stay here forever… He should stay still ant wait, and hopefully the creature wouldn’t know he was there and it would leave or at least walk away far enough to make it possible for him to escape. Yeah, waiting was clearly a better idea.  
  
Too bad his body moved before his brain had been able to finish the thought.

With a loud roar he threw himself over his enemy, the coat held out in front of him like a net that caught the unsuspecting creature who gave out a shriek at the sudden attack. They fell back onto a set of seats, the creature kicking and screaming under Jean. The coat covered everything of the zombie from the head down to its waist, keeping it from biting and reaching out for the terrified bur raging teenager. He smacked the creature across what he assumed was the face, the punch eliciting a pained scream from the struggling monster. Jean hit it again, but this time a hand shot out from underneath the coat and somehow managed to grab hold of Jean’s sleeve, and a muffled sound of protest came from underneath the coat again.

The touch brought Jean back down from his furious high and he stumbled backwards as he tried to get away, pulling the creature back with him into a standing position as he backed off.

The coat fell to the floor and Jean stared at the creature. Though it wasn’t a creature. It was a boy. A rather short boy with a buzz cut, his face slightly swollen and red, his nose bleeding and staining his worn-out band shirt. His jeans looked a size or two too big for him and like his shoes the lower half was covered in dirt. He stared at Jean who couldn’t do anything but stare back in complete shock. The boy still held Jean’s sleeve in a firm grip, his other hand raised as if to attack, but he didn’t. They both were, for the moment, frozen solid as they tried to figure out what to do next.  
  
“Oh my god.” Jean breathed, first to break the silence. “Oh my god, I thought you were one of them…!” he said without really thinking.  
“… Ow…” was all the boy managed, finally letting go of Jean to rub his bruised nose. He looked up at Jean with suspicion, but didn’t seem too keen to attack him at least.  
“Thanks for making sure of that before you decided to break my nose, you asshole…!” the kid growled sarcastically, his voice stuffy due to the injured nose. “What the fuck did you hit me with? A fucking brick??”  
  
Jean sunk back down onto one of the seats, staring blankly at the boy. The shoe he’d been holding fell to the floor as his hands started to tremble violently from all the adrenaline that were rushing through his veins. The stranger sat down at the seat opposite of Jean and looked down at the shoe, seemingly putting the pieces together rather quickly as he gave the object a rather hostile glare. He looked back up at Jean.  
  
“I heard you scream, so I thought I should check it out. Figured I should help you if you were in trouble. Didn’t think I’d get my ass whooped for it.” he said quietly, eyeing Jean with obvious apprehension. Jean didn’t move or speak though, as he was still trying to grasp the situation. He’d just beat the shit out of a kid he didn’t even know… There was no sign of those creatures anywhere. There were no people around at all, actually. Where had everyone gone? Why was he the only one still here? Had everyone else been rescued while he was hiding in the toilet? Had the monsters just been an absurd nightmare or hallucination caused by his concussion? He felt a poke on his arm and flinched, suddenly brought back to the present. He looked up and met the eyes of the stranger who looked a bit worried now.  
  
“You okay? You should have that head wound looked at, bro.” he said. Jean blinked a few times. Right… He had been bleeding. He’d forgotten about that. He’d just remembered hitting his head. He slowly raised his hand, gently grazing over the wound with his fingers and felt clumps of dried blood in his hair and on his cheek. He shook his head.  
“I’m sorry…” he mumbled weakly, suddenly exhausted. The boy shook his head.  
“It’s fine. I would have done the same. Probably.” He reached out his hand towards Jean and smiled a little awkwardly.  
“I’m Connie.” he said cheerfully, and Jean shook his hand and gave Connie a nod.  
“Hi.” He just said. Connie frowned slightly, but his smile didn’t disappear.  
“That’s it? Don’t you remember your name? I’d rather not call you ‘asshole’, you know.”  
“Oh, yeah, right… Sorry! I’m Jean.” he blurted out, flustered over his inability to introduce himself properly. Connie didn’t seem to mind though, and smiled brighter.  
“Nice to meet you, Jean. Now let’s go.” He said and stood up quickly enough to startle Jean.  
“W-what? Go? Where?” he asked, confused and wondering if he’d missed a part of the conversation completely. Connie sighed and tapped his foot on the floor, almost comically obvious with his frustration.  
“Yeah, we’re leaving this place. It’s not exactly safe, now is it? It’s a fucking train wreck. Literally. I already looked through the luggage and took the useful shit, so let’s go!”  
  
Jean stared at him dumbfounded but nodded anyway, forcing himself to stand up and letting Connie know he meant to follow him. The shorter kid seemed pleased and turned around to walk back to the broken window, throwing a backpack that seemed filled to the brim over his shoulders as they walked. Jean put his shoe back on and grabbed his own bag from the floor as they passed it, making sure to throw his dead cellphone in there just in case he’d find a place to recharge it later.  
  
“Watch out for the glass when you climb through.” Connie warned as he struggled to climb out of the window again, narrowly avoiding the sharp pieces of shattered glass spikes that still remained at the corners of the otherwise gaping hole that led out into freedom. Jean followed Connie’s lead in silence, only a low grunt making it past his lips every now and then as he struggled to get himself and his bag out in one piece. Once he was out he pulled a deep breath of fresh air, exhaling slowly as his body and mind slowly managed to calm down again. Everything seemed alright for now. He looked over at Connie who nodded in approval of Jean’s exiting technique and then started to walk, Jean following in his footsteps like a puppy.  
  
“Where are we going?” he asked after a minute, hoping that there was a town or something nearby. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk for too long with this headache. Especially not since it was made worse by the bright sunlight. Connie shrugged.  
“Well, back to my friends, for now. We better hurry though, because they’re not the kind of people who wait around if you’re late.” he replied, and Jean frowned. Those didn’t sound like the best kind of friends, but he didn’t say anything about it. He had other things he wanted to discuss first.  
“Why did you take the things from the train?” he wondered, and was slightly confused by the look Connie gave him, looking as if Jean was asking about something obvious.  
“Because we might need it? There’s a shortage on everything right now, you know, with the god damn zombie apocalypse being upon us and all. Where have you been the past few days?” he scoffed. Jean blinked.  
“What?”  
“I said--”  
“No, what do you mean by ‘the past few days’??” Jean interrupted. Connie stopped and stared at Jean, trying to determine whether the other kid was joking or not.  
“Three days ago zombies suddenly started to show up all over the place, and everything’s a mess. People are dying left and right, and everyone who dies turns into a zombie. We don’t know where they came from or what it is that turns them, but it’s not exactly something you’d miss unless you’ve lived under a rock for the past week.” he said and squinted at Jean, expecting some sort of explanation from him as to why he didn’t know any of this. Jean was temporarily mute and had stopped walking, trying to wrap his already dizzy mind around this bomb of information. Three days. No… It had only been one day since the accident. Or had it? He looked up at Connie again, who once again seemed more worried than annoyed by Jean’s behavior.  
  
“Dude, are you okay? What were you doing in that train anyway? It’s not exactly a safe hiding spot, you know…”  
  
Jean shook his head.  
“No, I was… I was on my way home, and there was an accident. Those _things_ were there and… And I passed out. I woke up less than an hour ago, I think…” he mumbled, trying to think back and remember what had happened, but it was all a bit blurry and unclear to him. He raised his gaze to look at Connie, who stared back at him with a mix of shock and awe.

“Oh my god, you mean you’ve been there for three whole days, and you haven’t been eaten??? That train was fucking crawling with zombies, man!” he exclaimed, and Jean winced at the loudness that made his head ache.  
“I locked myself in the toilet…” he said faintly, remembering the panic he’d felt at the time. The mere thought of it made him shiver. His new companion nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  
“That’s hella smart, bro. That’s probably why you’re still alive, then.”  
Jean didn’t reply. He didn’t really want to think about it. Connie seemed to understand this, and just motioned for Jean to follow him again.  
“Don’t worry, just stick with me and my friends and you’ll be fine.” He said in an assuring manner, and it honestly made Jean feel a little bit better.  
  
For the rest of the way they walked in silence, only broken every now and then when Connie complained about stepping into a puddle or only narrowly avoiding stepping into cow dung as they passed through a paddock. Jean still had questions, but he needed time to think and collect his thoughts properly first. And he needed to get his head looked at, too. If he’d been passed out for that long it might be more serious than he thought, even though he obviously still could walk and talk… That was always something.

They walked for surely an hour, though for Jean it felt more like ten minutes as he kept spacing out and not pay attention to anything around him. His mind only focused on keeping track of Connie, who unbeknownst to Jean slowed down time and time again to make sure that the injured teenager were able to keep going.

Once they finally reached their destination it was already mid-day, and the sun’s rays were hot and relentless, causing both boys to sweat tremendously. The last few hundred meters Jean was so exhausted that Connie nearly had to carry him; Jean leaning heavily over the shorter boy’s shoulder as they slowly walked forward. They had entered the woods, and as they entered a small clearing they came upon a somewhat run-down cottage, a couple of people moving about the yard and who stopped to look at them once they were noticed. One of the strangers, a auburn-haired girl, hurried up to them right away and without hesitation took Jean’s other arm and laid it around her shoulders, helping Connie with supporting his weight. Jean was grateful, because his legs were about to give out underneath him, and although Connie was stronger than he looked he would definitely have troubles with carrying both Jean and his backpack at the same time.  
  
Jean was brought into the cottage but he didn’t pay much attention at this point. He was lightheaded again and even though he’d been out cold for far longer than he’d thought he was absolutely exhausted. And starving. He hadn’t eaten since he’d left the university. He had no energy for eating now though, and he was relieved as he was placed in someone’s bed and had a blanket thrown over him. He could hear Connie whisper to the girl, but he only managed to catch her name, which apparently was Sasha. He would probably not remember it when he woke up again though. Less than thirty seconds later he was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I will stop having Jean faint or fall asleep at the end of every chapter at some point. He just needs to rest up a bit and heal up from his concussion.  
> I hope you liked this chapter and that it was an acceptable continuation to the first one~! Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments! <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter fanfiction that I'll use as a practice piece to improve my writing. I know the first chapter is really short, but hopefully I'll be able to write more for the second one. I also really hope that you enjoyed reading it~! (:


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